


in too deep (and the wheels keep spinning 'round)

by assvictoriam (iamnightbird)



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Complicated - Freeform, F/M, Post-Blind Betrayal, Post-Ending, Slow Build, kind of, mentions of Nate - Freeform, plans of comfort later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 04:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7085935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnightbird/pseuds/assvictoriam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“That’s quite the mess,” said a voice that was difficult to read. Short. To the point.</i> </p><p>  <i>“It’s okay, Nate, Codsworth will --” she managed to get out before her brain caught up with herself and she snapped her eyes open with a strangled gasp-like sob.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	in too deep (and the wheels keep spinning 'round)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been wanting to write in the fo4 fandom for quite a while, but I've never written a fic for a video game before - so I didn't quite trust myself to do it justice. But, I finally caved because I really wanted to write out something post-game for my main Soul Survivor, River. Comments - or constructive criticism - goes a long way!
> 
> Song from title is "I Need Some Sleep" by The Eels.

_I need some sleep, you can't go on like this. I tried counting sheep, but there's one I always miss.  
Everyone says I'm getting down too low. Everyone says I 'you just gotta let it go.'_

It was over.

  
That’s what they told her, and that’s what she kept trying to tell herself.  _ It’s over, we’ve won. All that’s left is picking off the Coursers left in the Commonwealth,  _ Maxon had told her. _ It’s over.  _ The Institute was gone - and Shaun with it.   
  
When River first stepped out of Vault 111, she had one focus. Finding her baby and getting him back, and avenging the death of her husband. Her precious Nate. Because why couldn’t it have been her? The deciding factor of it all was who grabbed Shaun when they ran out of the home once the sirens began to blare and all of their coherent thought was drowned out by the wailing of it -- and it was Nate, the perfect father, who grabbed their son as they ran out the door and willingly into the hellhole that was Vault 111. Nate would’ve faired better in this world, he was the one who had been in the army. But, then again, she wouldn’t have wished all that had occurred on Nate - on find Shaun just to lose him again. On coping with everything,  _ everything,  _ that you once knew and loved to be gone in what felt like mere seconds. On your world imploding with the bombs - the world as they knew ended, and it left her behind.   
  
Her focus, slowly but surely, began to shift the longer she was out of the Vault and the more she learned about this new world. As other factions and beliefs began to mesh uncomfortably with it all. The Railroad, The Brotherhood, the Institute who took her baby boy and raised him into a man without her, and the Minutemen. She chose the Brotherhood of Steel out of convenience rather than any kind of steady belief. Their beliefs left much to be desired, but they had the firepower capable of taking down the Institute and protecting what was left of the Commonwealth - or, who they deemed protectable. Even if it wasn’t the entirety of the Commonwealth, protecting some of it was better than protecting none of it, right? ...she wasn’t so sure. Not after meeting Nick Valentine. Not after Danse…. -   
  
God _ dammit,  _ Danse.  After Nate, she was convinced she was not going to love again. Because she was lost. And broken. A mother without a son, a wife without a husband. And, when joining the Brotherhood, it was more of a catalyst for a means to end the Institute as opposed to becoming a solider. And somehow, within all of that, somehow the sure-headed Paladin managed to worm his way out of that cold, metal suit of his and under her skin in a way that she was no longer familiar with. And River wasn’t sure how she felt about it … she felt guilty, in a way. Because she felt like she was betraying the future that was never to come that her and Nate had been trying to build. On the other hand, she knew that Nate would want her happy. Would want her to do what was best for herself. Had she been? In this world, what was best for herself? Locking herself back in the Vault after finding supplies? Maybe going back to Vault 81 and asking if she could stay with them. She would be safe - provided for. She could find a job there....

She left the Vault wanting to find  _ Shaun,  _ and what she found was a mess. She had lost Shaun all over again, buried beneath the rubble of the Institute, and as far as she was concerned, she had lost Shaun even before that. The Shaun she found running the Institute,  _ Father,  _ was not her son. If only, if only … If only her and Nate had been able to raise him like they wanted. If only their future they had planned had panned out. If only Shaun did not become Father -- … things would have been different and she would have someone she could call  _ son.  _ It was not usually the parent who was disappointed in what their child grew up to be -- especially when they were so smart, and they built an empire out of the palm of their hand. 

She couldn’t pinpoint  _ what  _ it was she was fighting for in the end -- as she watched the mushroom cloud billow hauntingly over the Commonwealth, the heat and the impact washing over her as she closed her eyes. And she could almost, almost, believe that she was back home in 2077. That it was a warm, summer’s day with a gentle breeze -- but as she inhaled, the sharp, bitterness of radiation burned her throat and shattered the fantasy in an almost jarring manner; her eyes had fluttered open to see herself (instead of being surrounded by Nate and their friends) surrounded by men and women in silver suits of armor - saluting her as a chorus of  _ Ad Victoriam!  _ sang itself across the Commonwealth while the clouds began to dissipate.    
  
Currently, River was standing in her home in Diamond City. She needed time away. Away from the Brotherhood (and, if she was completely honest, she had no plans whatsoever of returning to the Prydwen), away from the Minutemen and the concern in the glare of Preston. Away from anyone, and - if she could manage - she would spend time away from herself. Maybe she’d pick up some Jet to clear her mind. She never approved of such usage, but maybe, just the once … -

She let out a frustrated noise that echoed across the small home, fingers digging into the wood of the broken table she used for eating so harshly that knuckles began to pale and she began to bite into the skin at the tips of her fingers. With a burst of anger - undirected, as she was unable to pinpoint where to direct it to - she tipped the table over. A mug, her ashtray, her stale pack of cigarettes, a few empty beer bottles, and a stack of papers tumbled to the floor and slid across the concrete before she was dropping herself to her knees in the aftermath of it in a whimper - eyes landing on a holotape that was labeled in a heart aching handwriting  _ Hi, honey!  _ She closed her eyes to her surroundings.

_ You’ve made a mess, honey,  _ Nate would say, his voice biting ever so slightly - but still soft. Laced with gentle and contained frustration. And River would shake her head at him as Codsworth would hover by, mumbling something about how the weather was as he would pick the table back up and begin neatly arranging everything once more.   
  
She sat like that for a while, her knees beginning to ache. She wasn’t even aware of the tears on her cheeks until she was forced to inhale as her lungs began to burn, the inhale shaky and full of emotion. And then there was a voice, and she was so wrapped up in herself that she didn’t even, at first, think about who the voice belonged to.   
  
“That’s quite the mess,” said a voice that was difficult to read. Short. To the point.   
  
“It’s okay, Nate, Codsworth will --” she managed to get out before her brain caught up with herself and she snapped her eyes open with a strangled gasp-like sob. “ _ I’m sorry! _ ” she bit out, doubling herself over against her knees to try and hide the pink, ugly tone that had spread itself across her cheeks under the moisture of her emotions -- hiding it from the former-Paladin. 

“Soldier-” Danse started, but that -- that is what set River off.    
  
It wasn’t fair. To him. She knew that - in hindsight, she was wrong. She knew she was -- Danse was going through a hell of his own storm. While she was a lady out of time, Danse had lived what he believed to be a lie his entire life. And she knew that had to be a hell of a burden on the older male. But, at the time, she wasn’t thinking clearly. She was angry, with no one to direct it to. And Danse just happened to be there. Wrong place. Wrong time.   
  
She stood so quickly that she teetered. And slapped him.   
  
A few things in the action shocked her - and it happened so fast that it took her a few beats to process it. One; after all she had been through within in the past few months, it was a  _ slap  _ that anger brought out of her -- not a punch when unarmed, but a bitch-slap. And Danse’s reaction. He made to made for his holstered weapon, tucked against the side of his orange Brotherhood uniform, still as he heard him snap in a sharp breath -- but, his own thought process caught up with him and he stopped; hand hovering above the weapon.   
  
“I am  _ not  _ a soldier,” she bit out, shoving a tiny finger into his large, solid chest with gritted teeth. “I am not, and will never be a soldier. Never -- “ she cut herself off with a snarl.   
  
Danse’s response was short. Calculated. And unreadable, “Then what are you?” If  he was hurt, his expression didn’t show it. Then again, Danse was always very good at hiding his emotions in the heat of battle.   
  
She was quiet for a moment, heaving out a harsh breath at the lack of words that were forming. A mother? No, you couldn’t be a mother without a child. A wife?  _ A widow.  _ A General? Was she? Was she really the General that the Minutemen deserved? If anything, it should be Preston, not her. She was … --   
  
“Lost,” she responded, deflating every so slightly as she turned her back on the man. The man she had -- She had grown to care for. That was all she could accept at the moment, “I’m lost.” With that, she opened the door of her Diamond City and stormed out into the raging radiation that fought the ill-colored sky with bolts of lightening and screamed out its battlecries of rumbling. And she was gone into the night. The former Paladin still standing in the home at a loss, eyes falling to the mess of things that had hit the floor -- amongst them, the holotape he had always assumed to be her late husband’s … bundled close to her long since forgotten Brotherhood of Steel uniform and holotags. He carefully stepped around the debris, picking up the chain of the holotags - holding them to his eye level -- rusted too much to be her own (although it looked as though the female had made an attempt to clean off the grime), the flickering name read, instead  _ Paladin Danse.  _

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at motherofangst.


End file.
